


This Charming Man

by ValiantBarnes (Cimila)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Escape, Gen, Kindness, M/M, Minor Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron-centric, Poe Damerons hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 16:04:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5791888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cimila/pseuds/ValiantBarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times the First Order let Poe go because he was just so nice</p><p>No seriously, 5 times Poe was captured by the First Order and whoever was in charge just let him go because Poe turned on the charm. Maybe he complimented Phasma's shiny helmet or Hux' new haircut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Charming Man

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posting from the kinkmeme. :) (With a few minor edits.)
> 
> Full prompt: http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1082.html?thread=1323066#cmt1323066

1

 

The first time Poe was ever captured, he was a bit nervous. You could also say he was nervous enough that, given a chance, he would've talked to a wall. He’d been snatched heading back to his fighter, shoved into a cell and left alone. To stew, perhaps, or panic. Or maybe just until they had time to deal with him. So he’d been nervous, understandably, worried about what was going to happen, with no way out.

And then a maintenance man had appeared, and Poe practically jumped to the chance to talk to someone about unimportant things, to get his mind off his upcoming interrogation.

So he’d talked to the older man, Gar, asked about his life, his family, how his week’d been. If you asked Poe now, he’d still be able to tell you all about Gar’s sisters boy, who wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life, and the trouble with his own twins. Poe hadn’t even been trying to convince the man to let him go, hadn’t even thought of it, and it was this sincerity, the lack of ulterior motive, that had ultimate convinced Gar to flick the switch and let him go.

“I… what?” Poe had said, when Gar had turned off the power to his cell, hum of electricity falling silent.

“Go on, get.”

“But what’ll happened to you?” Despite the desire to run and run until he was far away from the place, he hadn’t been able to let Gar take the blame of his escape.

“I got a friend in security who owes me a favour. By the time anyone knows you’re gone, the vid’ll corrupted. They’ll assume it was you who did it, and I’ll be in the clear.” Poe had nodded, slowly, saying ‘ _as long as you’re sure_.’ The older man had nodded, gruff, and Poe had jumped forward and pulled him into a gigantic, thankful hug.

“Thank you Gar, I’ll never forget you.” He’d sworn before he’d left, and Poe never did.

He’d know it had been a one off thing, that if he ever got captured again, there would be no mercy. And yet...

 

2

 

“And you really clean all these corridors. No droids. Seriously? That’s amazing” All the chrome he’d seen so far was shining and spotless; it was honestly amazing. The stormtrooper, UT-3745 they didn’t even have names what the kriff, was nodding.

“Yeah. I mean, janitorial sucks, but you have to take pride in what you do, you know?”

“I hear you, pal. I don’t think I was ever as good as you, though. Never could get the metal to shine just right. How do you do it?”

“Wait, you used to pull janitorial duty?” Poe nods, thinking back to when he first joined the resistance. He’d been learning to pilot an x-wing properly, and wasn’t good enough for any sort of mission yet, so whenever he wasn’t in the cockpit he’d helped out around the base. Sanitation was perpetually short staffed, because almost no one chose to work there, so that’s where Poe headed. It was a good choice, actually, he’d enjoyed working with the people.

“I didn’t start out as a pilot, you know.” He grins at UT-3745, and the trooper chuckles.

“We get this special stuff for the chrome, and-” Poe memorised what the man said, as though he’d ever get to go back to base and tell Shira the secret to getting things to look super shiny. He’d just finished up, Poe nodding along every step of the way and asking questions, when the mans comm beeped.

“Shit, some fuckwit’s clogged up the bathroom in J-8. Again.” Poe groaned in sympathetic horror. Much as he’d liked working with the staff, actually working bathroom maintenance was the worst.

“Well, it was nice to meet you anyway. And thanks for the advice.” Poe smiled, and UT-3745 nodded, several times in quick succession.

“Yeah. It was… good, talking to you. Thanks for listening to me complain about, you know.” He waved a hand, indicating, well, the entire First Order, to be honest. Poe just laughed, shrugging it off.

“I had fun. Now you go have fun with that blockage.” Poe teased, to which he received a rude gesture. The trooper grabbed his caddy and walked off, out of the corridor which housed prisoners, currently only Poe. Then, when he was almost out the door, the trooper casually threw something over his shoulder. It hit the security panel seconds after he was out of the room, and the clear plastiform door in his cell creaked open. Poe could not believe it.

Maybe it was a trick?

But, no, as he edged out of his cell, no alarms blared, no troopers came storming in. All there was was a urinal deodorizer block sitting on the floor, from where it had bounced off the console.

Ut-3745 had killer aim, and he’d used it to free Poe.

When he got home, he placed the urinal cake on the shelf in his room, much to the confusion of many, until the story of his second, unbelievable escape started to circulate.

 

3

 

“I’ve never seen such beautiful, nicely polished armour.” Poe compliments, on a whim, figuring if it had been enough to get two people to free him completely, it might be enough for this Captain to treat him well. Or at least, not horribly. There’s not really a pause that Poe noticed, because he doesn’t expect a response, but eventually the Captain says,

“Thank you.”

“You’re very much welcome. I’m Poe, by the way.” They already know this, but there’s no harm in human social niceties. Well, usually. He’s heard of a few times human niceties have backfired when used with non-humans, but he’s pretty sure all the stormtroopers are human. Or, humanoid in form at least. Nothing else is readily apparent through the ubiquitous armour.

“I am Captain Phasma.” Poe grins up at the Captain, and he does have to visibly look up because they’re a full head taller than him, at the very least. And, as a bonus, their hand isn’t as achingly tight as it had been when he’d first been apprehended. In fact, you could almost say it was a gentle hold. Leading, yes, restraining, only as long as Poe didn’t struggle. Although he had no doubt that at the first sign of resistance their hand would clamp down again, much harder than before.

“I’m sorry if this is rude of me, but I didn’t realise that stormtroopers had names. I’ve only ever heard designations, before.” The Captain nods.

“Yes, that’s true. Once you attain a rank, however, you may select a name, or, commonly, have one selected for you.” Poe nods.

“You chose well for yourself.” It’s a guess, but a right one, based on the way they don’t correct him.

“It means apparition, or spectre in one of the old languages.” Phasma tells him, apparently starting to warm up to the conversation.

“Wow. That suits you; you’d definitely scare me if you popped up out of nowhere. I mean, you must've seen me jump when you apprehended me.”

“That’s very flattering, thank you.” Poe grins at Phasma, and has the gut feeling that on the other side of that mask, there’s a smile.

They take him to the temporary holding cell until he can be transferred onto a ship, and up to the Finalizer. The low-tech cage door doesn’t click into place fully, but Poe obviously doesn’t say anything. When Phasma calls away all of the guards for a perimeter search, Poe thinks that they were very much aware of that fact themself.

He waves at Phasma as he escapes, but they don’t appear to notice it. Or him.

Curious, considering he walked straight passed Phasma. And used his sleeve to clear some mud off their nice, shiny armour.

 

(Poe, it’s thought widely through the resistance after he escapes a third time, is just too charismatic, too _good_ for anyone to resist, First Order or not.)

 

4

 

There would be no escape this time. General Hux himself had captured Poe. Poe didn’t panic, however, almost old hat at being taken now. This time he would certainly end up in the interrogation room, regardless of how 'charming' he was. But, it never hurt to try anyway. He sure as space hadn’t expected Phasma to let him go, and that had still happened.

“Don’t bother talking to me.” Hux said as soon as Poe opened his mouth, not even looking away from his datapad.

“Alright.”

“I mean it. You’ve miraculously escaped thrice already. And, though nothing official has been reported, it’s reached my ears that you’re a very cunning man when you want to be.”

“Cunning? Really? Wow.” He’s never heard that said about him before.

“I would have said I was charming. Are you sure people are saying cunning?” Poe’s a little disappointed, actually. Maybe the rumours circulating the resistance _had_ gone to his head, too busy imagining himself as a charming figure rather than whatever he actually was.

“I really don’t think you’re capable of being charming, Dameron.” Hux scoffed, and Poe couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I mean, how do you even classify charming?” Hux thought for a second, not wanting to answer but always willing to showcase superior knowledge.

“I suppose it’s a different set of criteria for everyone. What is it that you’ve been saying to get people to turn a blind eye to your escapes?”

“All I do is talk to people. I see something I like about them, and then say it. I've never asked to escape, they just... let me go.” Poe shrugs, even handcuffed as he is.

“Then it should be easy for me to resist your… charm.” Hux sneers.

“Why?”

“I highly doubt that I have any traits you find likeable, resistance scum.” Poe couldn’t help but laugh because that should be true, Hux being a First Order general, and apparently kind of a fanatic, but Poe had been known best for one thing back home on Yavin 4, and that was finding the best in everyone.

“That’s not true. Your hair is wonderful.” That had Hux looking up from his pad.

“My… hair?”

“Yeah. The colour’s wonderful. Exotic. And you keep it really neat, which is amazing to me. The only way I’ve ever had neat hair is to practically shave it off.”

“...Well, I think your hair is very nice also. It’s, uh, very wavy. Thick. Looks soft.” The most interesting thing was the bright blush staining Hux’s pale cheeks. The great General was _flustered_.

“Thank you. And I’d compliment your eyes, as well. I couldn’t even say what colour they are, but whatever colour, they’re gorgeous.” The red was spreading, now. No matter what happened now, Poe could go to his grave knowing he’d made General Hux blush as red as his hair.

“What next, you’ll compliment the way I wear my clothes?” He sneered, clearly trying to regain control of the encounter.

“Actually, I was going to say something about that fetching blush.” A moment of silence, with the single stormtrooper on guard trying especially hard not to be noticed at all, ever, before Hux was striding towards Poe.

“You _infuriating_ -” Hux cut himself off, fuming, as he grabbed Poes bound hands, hard, and cut through the plastifiber wrist restraints.

“Get out of my sight.” He hissed, and Poe couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. The rumours were right, he _was_ ridiculously charming. Poe gave a jaunty salute to the General and stepped around him.

“I really do like that blush.” Poe said in farewell.

“UT-3744, we are the only people in this room, correct?” Hux asked the stormtrooper, who would have preferred to accidentally discharge his weapon directly at his foot that try and figure out the right answer to that question.

“Ah...yes?” Since the General seemed to be letting the pilot go, he should play along if he wanted to keep out of reconditioning.

“As I thought.” And then Hux went back to his datapad, as if Poe Dameron wasn’t making his way to the door. He stopped by next to UT-3744.

“UT-3744? Do you know UT-3745? How’re they doing?” The stormtrooper, who was pretty sure he was supposed to be ignoring the pilot, on the Generals orders, blinked in surprise.

“Uh, yeah. He’s good. Managerial janitorial, now. I think the highlight of his year was putting up a strongly worded sign in J-8.” Poe laughed, patting the trooper on the shoulder.

“That’s great, man. I’m happy for him. Say hi for me.” And then Poe continued on, quick as possible to make up for lost time.

(The next day at lunch UT-3744 sat next to their long time friend UT-3745, and told him about the weird conversation. UT-3745 spent the entire day grinning, even after his face was once again covered by his helmet. General Phasma continued to turn a blind ear to the whispers of how nice Poe Dameron was.)

 

5 (kind of)

 

“I’ve heard all about your vaunted charms.” Kylo Ren sneers at the pilot strapped to the interrogation chair, even though the man can’t possibly see it, through the mask.

“I won’t fall for it.” He swears, and the man nods affably.

“I would never expect you to.” The man smiles, and Kylo has the sudden realisation that he’s about to be charmed, even though he’s aware of what’s happening, and the other man is strapped down. It’s ridiculous. He’d been warned, he shouldn’t be even thinking about Damerons stupid, wavy hair, regardless of what he’d overheard Hux and Phasma saying about it.

“Right. Tell me where the map is.” He’ll give him one chance, and then he’ll rip the knowledge out of his mind, ripping the mans brain apart as he goes. Then he’ll cease to be a charming nuisance.

“I would if I could, friend, I really would. But I don’t know where it is now.” Kylos brain has stalled, a bit, on the word ‘friend.’ He clears his throat, tries again.

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s alright.”

This is not how Kylos interrogations usually go.

“This is your last chance. Where is the map.”

“Probably on Jakku somewhere, still. But I couldn’t say for sure. You’ve got a nice voice, by the way." Poe smiles like he means it, and Kylo wishes he’d just let one of the First Order interrogators do this, but he could get the information quicker, with less chance of Dameron escaping again.

“Too bad.” But, instead of ripping his way into Damerons mind, he slipped in quietly, careful not to do too much damage.

“Where is the map?” He asked again, voice softer, and Dameron had a flash of a thought about a droid, before he started thinking about the etymology of the word map. Interesting, but not what he wanted.

So he asked again, instead of chasing after that image of the droid and forcibly taking the knowledge. This time he was waiting for it, for the droid, and there, he had it.

“The map is in a droid, designation BB-8. You told him to run.”

“See, I said I didn’t know where the map was anymore.” Poe looked a bit upset at having revealed the secret, no matter how accidentally or unwillingly, so Kylo awkwardly reached forward to pat his shoulder.

“You could not have resisted the power of the force; it was inevitable that I discovered the droid.” And then, cursing himself for even attempting to comfort the man, Kylo went to storm out of the room. He was stopped by a quiet ‘ _thank you_.’

“I will make sure your droid is not harmed.” And then Kylo was gone, hoping to forget all about the kindness he showed to the resistance pilot.

 

(.5)

 

Poe’s sure that the trooper who took him from the interrogation room was sent by Kylo Ren, as he’d said. He hadn’t been able to protect BB-8, or the map, but apparently he could still charm his way to an escape. There was a second where he felt too pathetic to deserve to escape, but he pushed the thought away quickly. He can do more good helping the resistance than rotting in a First Order cell, reprimanding himself for something he couldn’t help.

Ren was right, after all, they would have gotten the location from him, one way or another. And this way, he wouldn’t need months of recuperation time to recover from.

 

+1

 

And then the trooper pulls him into a cupboard, takes off his helmet, and Poe’s pretty sure his heart skips a beat in his chest.

He’s not been sent by Ren, or anyone else. He wants to help Poe escape, even though they've never met before this moment, never spoken. He's gorgeous.

“It’s the right thing to do.” He says.

“You need a pilot.” Poe corrects, and the trooper nods.

“I need a pilot.” Poe can’t stop the grin stretching his face. This trooper didn’t want to just help Poe escape, he wanted to escape too. Defect. Leave the First Order. Perhaps join the resistance. (Perhaps smile at Poe some more.)

Poe can’t help but be charmed by the troopers quiet litany of ‘ _stay calm_ ’, apparently talking to himself.

FN-2187.

Kriff, Poe can’t call him that, not after he’s helped Poe steal a TIE fighter, not when he’s defected. (Not when Poe wants to kiss him.) After that it’s Finn. Finn who’s a quick learner, and enthusiastic and a pretty great guy.

 

Poe’s never been so pleased to see someone as he is to see Finn, back at base. The hug is spur of the moment, and Poe couldn’t have stopped it even if he wanted to.

And Finn’s wearing his jacket.

All traces of Poe Dameron, charming resistance pilot, disappear. All that’s left is Poe, and Finn, and Poe apparently being head over heels for a man he’s known for maybe ten minutes.

But hey, maybe no one will notice.

Jess is already making kissy faces at them as Poe walks Finn through the base, to the General. It takes Snap 0.3 seconds to catch on and join in.

 

(.5)

 

Eventually it gets back to the First Order that Charming Pilot Poe Dameron is in a relationship with Finn. FN-2187.

UT-3745 organises a party.

(The guest list may or may not include everyone who's ever interacted with Poe, including Captain Phasma, General Hux and a reluctant, sulking Kylo Ren.)

**Author's Note:**

> P.S: I accidentallied myself into Poe/Hux cause of writing this.


End file.
